Bound In Love
by reinadefuego
Summary: Someone's been writing fanfiction about Diana and Ororo, and after the two begin to read it, Diana has an idea for what they could introduce to their private life. Diana/Ororo. Femslash. Metafiction. Mild smut.


**A/N: **written for Femslash February Trope Bingo (2017): Metafiction. Contains rope bondage and mature content.

* * *

"Do you think—"

"No, she wouldn't, would she?"

"Kitty would," Ororo muttered disapprovingly. "Who thinks to write stories about their teachers?"

Diana chuckled, unable to hide the smirk on her face. Kitty was bored after all, who knew what trouble these American teenagers got up to when set loose upon the world? Themiscyrans balanced training with study and fun, but there was no balance here in Westchester. One day could be chaos, the next things were quiet, and those were the days when Wolverine wasn't around.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have a look," Ororo said, reaching for her laptop on the bedside drawer. If there was anything to be found, it would certainly be on the internet: at least that was how Logan claimed he'd found it. What he was doing searching for fanfiction was anyone's guess, and neither Diana nor Ororo had any desire to know the answer.

"Wait," Diana said, hesitant to allow Ororo to begin typing. "Should we really be—"

No, Ororo thought, but we'll do it regardless. Fiction was meant to represent reality, and the reality of their situation was plain as day to anyone who spent ten minutes in a room with them. She typed with one finger, clutching Diana's with the other.

The winds shifted in response to her nerves, buffeting the school and blowing the curtains of Ororo's greenhouse slash apartment open. After the last time Scott's glasses failed, he'd almost cut the school in half, and so another storey was added and divided between themselves and Scott.

"Hera help us," Diana murmured, eyes widening as the search results loaded. So many, and by various authors — surely they weren't all Kitty. "Click that one: Queen of Storms."

"It's rated E."

"Please," Diana whispered in her ear, voice rough with desire. The clouds soon darkened in response as Ororo ran her finger over the touchpad. Ororo squeezed her hand tighter as she read the title again, "Queen of Storms, by Cat's Got Your Tongue."

"Ororo's life would forever be changed after this moment," Diana read, sliding Ororo's hand off the touchpad and shifting it to her own leg. "A chance encounter with a queen would leave her forever lost to the world of men, a queen who took prisoners and gave no mercy, until she met the goddess who rides the winds and her world was also shaken to the core."

"Wait. Where do you leave a review?" Ororo said, reading ahead of Diana. This was wrong. Literary freedom or not, she'd grown up in Egypt, not Kenya. Why did everyone insist on getting it wrong?

"Ororo's tongue was warm and wet, laving the inside of Diana's thigh," Diana read, skipping ahead, curious to know if Ororo was paying attention. "Diana could feel herself throbbing in anticipation, fingers clawing at the mattress and legs tense. What if she wasn't good? What if, when the time came, Diana could not service Ororo as well as she deserved?"

"Ororo could teach her a thing or two," she murmured, looking up at Diana. Slowly but surely over the last two years, Ororo had been falling in love with the island's exiled queen. "And perhaps Diana could teach her some things too."

"I did learn something interesting that I can do with my lasso recently," Diana said, reaching for the gold rope attached to her armoured skirt. "They're called prusik cuffs."

"Bondage?"

The hesitant look on Ororo's face made Diana pause. It wasn't as if this were the first time she'd spoken of it with Ororo, and Diana had practised on a far-too-willing Emma Frost to make certain the knot wasn't too tight. "Yes, but only if you're willing. I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with, Ororo. I would only tie your wrists together and then to the bed head. There's also the matter of your safe word: if you say it, I'll stop immediately. No questions. We stop and I untie you."

She trusted Diana to the Savage Land and back, and Diana had already caught her around the waist with the lasso once. The storm that had been forming far above their heads now seemed to dissipate as Ororo mulled it over. A safe word wasn't supposed to be something she said often, and there was no better word. "Can you show me how to tie yours first?"

"Of course!" Diana freed her lasso and undid the loop, stretching it out before she set it in Ororo's hands. "First, two loops," she instructed, showing Ororo how to twist and curl the rope. "This is one of the easier knots I learned. Now, slide the ends through like this. Make sure they sit parallel and not on top of each other."

"Parallel," Ororo repeated, watching as Diana prepared the knot then tightened it. "Is that it?"

"Yes. You put it on someone's wrists," Diana slid her hands through the loops, "then tie another knot on top, and it's ready to be secured to a bed. It's also inescapable once secured, rendering a safe word paramount. Would you like to tie the next knot?"

"You want me to—Diana, please, you only said you would show me."

"I want you to tie my arms to the bed," Diana said, holding her arms out, "and continue reading that fanfiction . . . please, so you can see how strong the knot is. I did say it's inescapable."

"What's your safe word?"

"Tiramisu."

Diana's new favourite dessert. Of course. Ororo swallowed then nodded, tying the knot carefully before she moved the laptop off the bed and gave Diana room to maneuver.

"You would make a beautiful domme, Ororo, or a truly elegant and regal submissive."

Ororo smiled and ducked her head, mohawk pointing towards Diana. She only knew how to tie the knot, but reversing it in order to undo it made sense. What if the rope didn't come undone? Even Logan with his adamantium claws couldn't cut through it, and Diana was suggesting she be tied up?

She was too nervous, too unsure. Ororo undid the knot and tugged the loops down, loosening them. "Can we practise making the loops again?"

"Of course. Emma has a book on rope bondage; would you like me to ask her if we can borrow it?"

_Of course she does_. "Yes, thank you," Ororo said, sliding the loops off Diana's wrists and undoing the main knot. "How long have you been interested in ropes?"

"A while. When my mother gave me my lasso, I had to learn to use it on my own first. Artemis, a fellow Amazonian, showed me how to tie a proper knot. She was also the woman who—"

"You first slept with?"

"Yes."

The most she'd ever had to do with ropes was seeing them in museums, or attached to tents and flag poles. That nagging thought at the back of her mind had reared its head upon seeing Diana's lasso, though trust and reassurances had laid it to rest.

Being tied up? Perhaps it was a little too early in their relationship for suddenly turning things up a notch. However, she wasn't one to say no to a learning opportunity. If she were to do this, Ororo wanted something she could slip free of, something Diana could learn alongside her.

"Could we try again later? I'm kind of horny right now," Ororo said, watching as Diana re-secured her lasso. This was just nerves and fear, something she could conquer given time and the growth of trust. "That story certainly had the desired effect on me, and my Danger Room class with Logan doesn't start for an hour."

"Your clothes?" Diana said, staring at Ororo's shirt as if she could burn it off with her eyes to reveal the soft umber skin that lay beneath. Ororo's body was a sacred thing Diana had no desire to desecrate . . . without invitation.

"Fuck, please, yes."

Diana took Ororo's shirt by the collar and tore it straight down the middle without hesitation. If all they had was an hour, Diana would make certain this was the most pleasurable hour of Ororo's life.

"I love you, but no ropes. Not yet, Diana."

"I understand, now lay down and close your eyes."


End file.
